The Perfect Wife
by redbull07
Summary: Narcissa is the perfect wife, and Lucius knows this. He can't help but be intrigued with her. Dedicated to Boxter.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHORS NOTE : I just wanted to do something that would realisticaly make sense...I just dont see Lucius as the incredibly soft type, and I tried to make Narcissa how he would like her to be... as a black she probably was brought up cold n' all...read & enjoy !!!

With frosty eyes matching the frosty ground, Lucius Malfoy coldly surveyed the scene before him. Idly flicking his white-blonde hair out of his eyes, he sighed and allowed his eyes to wonder over the no-so- picturesque view of the Hogwarts grounds being trampled over due to the snow, mainly by dull-witted Hufflepuffs, brash Gryffindors and the more outgoing of the Ravenclaws. He noticed that only the Slytherins took a speculative view, noting they probably felt the same as him, preferring to watch and gloat as the other houses made complete and utter fools of themselves, as opposed to actively taking part.

Shaken out of his reverie by vaguely hearing his name called by one of his…associates, he mechanically turned his head in the general direction of the boy to answer, but he stopped as a gleam of white-blonde hair much like his own caught his eye. He turned fully to face the person in question, silently observing her from afar as she delicately made her way over the snow towards the great hall with her friends. He had only very recently found out that he was expected to marry her and, privately he couldn't be more satisfied with the match. The girl was just as beautiful as he, just as powerful, and was just as…like-minded as he was. He couldn't help wonder though, would she make a good wife? Would she make him happy? After all, he couldn't be expected to settle for anyone that wasn't flawless now could he?

She was stunning, that much was certain, and her Black genes had certainly done her no injustice, but there was more then just aristocratic splendour about her body. Her manner of walking was very much without false airs and graces, but it held the signature streak of Black arrogance and pride in it- her petite figure was one of the shortest in their year, but the amount of _power _in her step was such that Lucius was inexplicably entranced by it. He was already aware of her razor-sharp tongue, having heard some extremely insulting remarks thrown in the direction of the mudbloods, but for someone who was incredibly infamous for her wit, she was remarkably softly-spoken. Her face was always calm and composed; her demeanour always perfectly executed, and he admired the way she would so effortlessly put down both staff and students alike without so much as being rude or discourteous. Certainly, he mused, Narcissa Black was the perfect Slytherin, the perfect ally and soon she would become, he knew, the perfect wife.

Lucius Malfoy's lip curled in what could only be called a self-satisfied smirk. Yes, he thought contentedly, Narcissa Black would make him _very_ happy.

REVIEW IF YOU THINK LUSCIOUS ...AHEM... _LUCIUS _AND NARCISSA ARE HAWT !


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHORS NOTE: Since a few people kindly asked for a continuation, of sorts, I decided I'd do one more. I would like to thank both Gothic-Romantic99 and Briana, for being the first two who reviewed my story! I would also like to thank MaNdi-ANdRad3 for favoriting this story!! Cheers people!

Though the first chapter was in the P.O.V of Lucius, and it would make more sense if I carried it on as such, I reckoned us girlies would like to hear Narcissa's thoughts rather then Lucius's now...

Narcissa had taken quite a liking to the library in her family home; it was good for escaping the hustle and bustle of her relations on the many floors below downstairs. It was in a secluded part of the house, and she was pretty sure that since the day she had found it, no-one else had been in here. Sinking down onto one of the old, comfy sofas that accommodated the room, playing absent-mindedly with the small platinum band on her finger, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to mull over the recent succession of events that involved her.

The ring held no particular regard in her eyes. It was not a huge, princess-cut diamond one like her mothers, nor was it a plain ugly band like her sisters. Instead, however, it was rather a curious combination of the two, fairly simple and elegant, but nonetheless whispering of money and class. She knew, that if she were any other respectable pure blooded girl worthy of marriage to a Malfoy, she would probably be swooning or something equally stupid and undignified. The fact remained, however, that she was most certainly _not_ stupid and nor was she undignified. Instead, Narcissa Black resigned herself to quiet acceptance over the whole affair, and silently thanked whoever had first suggested the match.

Narcissa wasn't one to believe in true love, or perfect matches. She didn't want, or need all of that. Her dreams of knights in shining armor were long ago compressed by her over-zealous family members. What she _did_ need, however, was someone who was pure of blood, noble of birth, someone who was of power and influence. Someone, basically, good enough for the last Black daughter to give her name to. Not that Lucius wasn't a worthy candidate, though. He was good to her, civil and polite, and she could easily picture herself living the life of the chatelaine of Malfoy manor. She knew like she should have, however, that there were strings attached, that there always were, and she would be expected to be of invaluable aid to her family through thick and thin.

She would be lying if she said that she was calm and composed though. Her father had always wanted a match between the Black and Malfoy families, and she hoped that he would be pleased now. After all, in the small world she was living in, it was getting harder and harder to find a decent family to be married into, and she was relieved that their union had pretty much been guaranteed since both of them had been born. It didn't mean that she didn't have her share of worry, however. She wasn't entirely sure marriage was what she wanted right now, and nor was she sure if she wanted the weight on her shoulders of being the fragile link that brought the two very ancient, and very powerful houses together. She knew very well that her placement would mean if she had to support her husband as opposed to her family, or vice versa, then she would be in a _very_ compromising position, only made worse because she knew very well the extremities of both clans.

Narcissa sighed, and allowed herself to gently some out of her complicated thoughts. She wasn't to think of that now. She had made her choice, and it was a good one, one with promises and security that appealed to her self-preservative nature. Idly playing with the ring, she caught sight of an insignia etched into it. "_toujours pur_". Always pure. Well, that much was right, at least. For the first time that she entered her anxiety filled thoughts, she allowed a ghost of a smile to pass over her face. There was no use worrying now, she was already wearing his ring, and so, with freshly renewed vigor, she composedly readied herself to go back downstairs with the mental thought that _this_ is what she was raised for: to be a strong, powerful woman who would stand side by side with her husband. And she would do exactly that. After all, she thought comfortably, behind every great man that had ever lived there had been a great woman.

Finis

…did I mess it up?? I did didn't I? Sigh. Well, please review, let's hear the damage :)


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHORS NOTE: Sorry for the long delay…he he…errm….I was debating as to whether I should do a wedding scene for them…but I decided against it. However, if anyone feels that one _should_ be done then I will be only too happy to oblige. So, without further ado I present….chapter 3!! enjoy!

Lucius Malfoy had never been one to pace. It was terribly undignified, and as a Malfoy his whole image was supposed to be one of _dignity. _This didn't stop him, however, from pacing the wide, dim-lit passage of his wintry home. Although he would never admit it to anyone, he was nervous. Nervous for Narcissa, for his child, and for himself. The emotion was foreign to him, and at first he hadn't been able to identify the odd, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. She had been in the room for over two hours now, and still he wasn't allowed to see her. Cursing loudly, he warily scrubbed a long, pale hand over his tired face and sank down onto one of the cream sofas that he had conjured a while ago.

Draconis. When Narcissa had picked the name out a few months ago, he had sighed and asked her what the Black obsession was for naming their children after constellations. When Narcissa had replied with an equally scathing remark about _his _family habits, he had stayed quiet, not wanting to further anger her in her pregnant state. After a while though, he had to admit that the name had grown on him, and now, months later after he had heard the name he was of the opinion that there couldn't be a better title for his first son.

By nature, he wasn't the affectionate type, but he had already developed a strong fondness and affiliation for Narcissa, whose character endeared her to him, and it was an achievement for his cold and indifferent nature to be able to express his liking for her. And when he had heard of Narcissa's pregnancy, the respect she had earned increased ten-fold. He was looking forward to fatherhood more then he could have ever imagined. Certainly, he was showing more enthusiasm for it then his own father ever had. To be able to have a son that he could teach, train and mould to be the perfect pureblood aristocrat was indeed a satisfying thought for Lucius, and he held an enormous amount of pride in the knowledge that his son would be the heir to one of the most ancient and powerful houses in the wizarding world.

Suddenly aware of someone in the doorway, Lucius looked up and noticed a silent house elf staring at him. Angrily clearing his throat, he spoke harshly, asking it what it wanted. Upon hearing that his child had been born, he hastened to the room that Narcissa was in, heart beating wildly in his chest. After ensuring that his wife was fine, he held his son carefully in his arms, thoroughly inspecting him. Small, odd-looking and asleep, Lucius saw not just his charge but the power that he would once hold.

Lucius was content. His duty as a Malfoy to produce an heir was complete. He had a family now, and he would ensure that the child he had created would one day make a strong leader, a powerful adversary and an impressive Malfoy.

Right, I know I messed up, I know. Believe me, I HATE this chapter. It's not even in effing character….sigh.

Well, if you think that Draco is as Gorgeous as his father then REVIEW!! If not, then still review!!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: IM SOOOO SORRY FOR THE DELAY IN UPDATING!! SO, CYBER COOKIES FOR ALL THOSE WHO REVIEWED, WERE PATIENT AND ADDED ME TO THEIR ALETS AND FAVOURITES!! EXTRA CHOCOLATY COOKIES FOR YOU GUYS ;) ENJOY!!

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Narcissa looked down haughtily upon her husband and son, grimacing slightly as a rather…large… amount of snow barely missed hitting her immaculate white robes. She had chosen to wear them as she thought they matched rather well with the surroundings; distinctive but nondescript at the same time. The two males, one chiselled to statue-esque perfection and the other warmly bundled in copious layers of clothing, were playing a game in the January snow, and those who didn't know Lucius well enough would have said that he was merely playing the part of an affectionate father. Narcissa knew better though. He was teaching Draco some of the more…physical aspects that would be needed for his ultimate career. Of which, even Lucius wasn't entirely sure.

Watching the family that she had helped to create, she couldn't help a small sigh escape her lips. Those more inclined towards a warm disposition may have believed that she was just another happy mother made proud, but domestic bliss was far from her mind.

Narcissa's mind was rather like a checklist. Do one thing, move on to another. Complete one task, execute some more. It was how she had been brought up, rationalising and prioritising what needed to be done. And she had so far successfully managed _that_ part of her life. In her eyes, both motherhood and marriage was easy to handle; if only one had the mental ability to do so. And Narcissa's sharp mind certainly _could_ handle the pressure of both.

And so, at this particular moment, Narcissa could only let out a soft sound only attained by self-achievement, whilst mentally ticking off what she had so far accomplished; marrying a worthy candidate: _Check._ Producing a suitable heir: _check. _Maintaining a faultless image to help keep both family names unsoiled: _check. _Narcissa could happily say that she had done herself proud, once again. After all, when had Narcissa ever proven herself wrong?


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'D LIKE TO _SPECIALLY _THANK BOXTER FOR TELLING ME OFF ABOUT MY LONG…ABSENCE. COUGHEXAMSCOUGH. AND ALSO FOR REVIEWING. AND FOR SEEING THE MALFOYS LIKE I DO. CHEERS LUV ;) ANYWAY, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, CHAPTER 5!!

Lucius stared at the offending item as though it was poison. What the fu-'_blazes_', he amended silently, was Narcissa thinking, wearing something like… that? Did she _want _that loser to leer at her like he was currently doing throughout her stupid fancy dinner?

Catching his wife's eye, he silently, but furiously, tried to get her to see things from his point of view- '_go change_' he thought desperately, hoping against hope that Narcissa was some kind of Legilimens that could read his enraged thoughts.

Lucius never usually cared about what other people said, or in this case, did. It wasn't in his nature to concern himself with other people's affairs, he thought himself far too superior. So why he should be angry at Narcissa's choice of dress was really quite astounding to him. Normally, if a man looked at Narcissa, he would smirk and think nothing of it, he wasn't a jealous man by nature. He rarely had anyone to be jealous _of_.

Today though, he felt like ripping the mans eyes out, something he would have most gleefully done had it not been for the fact that Narcissa would not have appreciated it.

Sighing warily, Lucius forcefully ignored the almost-painful green eyed monster in his chest and re-arranged his glacial facial features to look perfectly serene, nodding appropriately when necessary to his wife's low murmurs of conversation. What had this woman done to him? He had never formed an attachment to the opposite sex, not even his own mother, and, truth be told, he felt intimidated that the woman he was to spend the rest of his life with had managed to stir such passionate feelings in him. _'Love'? _He tried the word in his mind, the phrase unfamiliar on his tongue. _'No, not love.'_ He didn't know what love was, but he instinctively knew that this arduous feeling was not it. It was more of a…warm affection. Somehow, in the bottom of Lucius's mind, he knew it would be the closest thing to it he would ever feel. And that suited him just fine. In any case, money and influence, not love made the world go around.

A/N: if you guys review, you'll (magically) receive any Malfoy of your choice…on a silver platter. With your name and a phrase of your choice tattooed on them…you can choose WHERE too ;) (If people STILL don't review after that, I will seriously recommend you get your head examined!!…:) )


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I GUESS THIS KINDA GOES WITH CHAPTER 5. ERM, I WAS PRETTY STUCK FOR IDEAS, SO IF ANYONE HAS ANY I WOULD BE GLAD TO INCORPERATE THEM INTO MY STORIES. AGAIN, THANKS EVER SO MUCH TO BOXTER, YOU ROCK!

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Narcissa smiled politely at the woman, taking care to show that the frigid expression did not quite meet her eyes. Oh, how she wanted to wring her scrawny little neck. Instead, she shook her hand and enquired if she would like a cup of tea.

'_She looks like a pig_'. Narcissa viciously thought. '_A great, big, dirty pig_'. The woman in question was a friend of the Malfoy family, and she had deemed it necessary to drop in now and then for a "friendly visit". More like to make eyes at her husband, Narcissa irritably thought. She tried (and failed) to smother a sneer at the woman as she leaned over the mahogany coffee table in order to pick up her tea saucer, all the while managing to display her ample chest, right in the face of one very amused looking Lucius.

'_I don't care. Why should I? Goodness, no, I'm fine. Not angry. Not even jealous. Not possible._' Repeating this mantra in her mind, Narcissa tried to convince herself that she felt absolutely fine with her husband in the company of a promiscuous cow, and she would have succeeded in fooling herself had it not been for the extremely _huge_ amount of burning fury in her chest. She caught herself wondering, if Lucius had ever had eyes for anyone that wasn't her whilst she was with him. Sure, he wasn't interested in the pig, but what about other women. She certainly wasn't insecure though. That was for people of lesser character, she reflected. Even in her mind though, she knew that she was lying to herself. She _was_ insecure.

Catching her husbands eye, she done something that under any normal circumstances she would never have thought to do; she grinned, quite madly, at her partner, whose mouth promptly fell open. To put it nicely, she actually didn't care what she looked like, as long as she kept her man to herself. Giggling in a way that certainly _did not_ suit her, she reached over and tenderly closed his mouth with a quiet 'snap'. Narcissa calmly turned to face ''The pig", as she had so affectionately named her, and in less then a sentence, she used the razor tongue that she was infamous for and sneeringly dismissed the startled woman.

Still telling herself that she had only acted out of character because she wanted to protect what was hers, not because she was emotionally attached to the man, she turned to face Lucius with a small smile. She smiled, satisfied, as his eyes roamed hungrily over her, and her only. '_Good_' she thought smugly. '_Still mine..._'

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PLEASE REVIEW!! I'LL SEND YOU A BOX OF MILLIE'S COOKIES IF YOU DO!!!! 


	7. Chapter 7

The private study was supposed to have been a refuge if he had chose to marry a particularly annoying woman, but when he had married Narcissa he had found little use for it. She was anything but annoying. And that's where they were seated now, Lucius reclining elegantly on the leather chair. His wife was perched nervously on the sofa, her usual perfect poise absent.

"My mother will be coming over to visit Draco". Narcissa spoke the words carefully, afraid that she would ruin the already-fragile peace in the room. The couple had both lightened up considerably, and they had evolved into an almost…happy relationship, but now, what with the uprising of the war and the inevitable strain on her husband, he was much more liable to explode in a rage at any given moment. Hence her reluctance to inform him of her mothers arrival.

Lucius hated Mrs. Black with a passion Narcissa had only ever seen directed at Dumbledore, but she supposed it was for good reason; the Malfoy's were always dignified, and her mother…didn't even know the meaning of the word. She was, well… to put it politely, the woman was a walking catastrophe. She swore, cursed, complained and generally made a commotion wherever she went. That and she smelled vile, in Narcissa's highly knowledgeable opinion. Lucius had made it _extremely_ clear to both herself and her mother that he held nothing but contempt for the deranged woman.

Lucius looked over at her with silvery mercury eyes, and she felt her heart skip a beat. Would he be angry? Would he snarl at her like he had done to so many other unwitting people? He had never once taken his temper out at her or their son, and she didn't want him to start now. _"Please"_ she prayed silently. _"Don't be angry." _Her man didn't need the pressure of being angry, he had enough on his plate, and if he was annoyed with _her_ then where would he get his support from? It astounded her still that she actually cared selflessly for this man, but it no longer scared her. She _deserved_ to care for him. Who else would do a decent enough job?

Nodding slightly to Narcissa's statement, Lucius stood gracefully and made his way over to his wife. She was musing quietly, and although he didn't know what about, he found the look of intense concentration on her face beautifully endearing. Startled by Lucius's sudden closeness, Narcissa took a step back and eyed her husband warily. _What was he doing?_ Was he mad? He hated her mother, why on earth was he agreeing? Perhaps her mother was more conniving then she thought and had placed a charm of some sort on him. Because there was _no way_ in the seven fiery pits of hell that Lucius would willingly comply with the Black patriarch residing in _his_ manor.

She voiced her opinions, and Lucius laughed softly. She always did have a way with words, his flower, he thought. _"Will it make you happy?" _he queried softly. Startled by the question, Narcissa froze. What…what had he asked? He had never asked her a question like this, and she found the experience slightly uncomfortable; Lucius always took, never gave. The man in question lightly tapped her arm, a patient but amused expression twinkling in his stormy eyes. Forcing herself to answer instead of losing herself in them, she gently answered in the affirmative, then hurriedly excused herself. Leaning back on his chair, he smiled peacefully. He always knew that she would be the one to steal his heart. Although, he mused, it couldn't really be considered stealing if he had willingly given it to her in the first place.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! CHEERS TO MY REVIEWERS, ESPECIALLY BOXTER..YOUR REVIEWS MAKE ME SMILE...OOH, AND I HOPE YOUR EXAMS WERE OK! XD

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Narcissa paced anxiously as the clock on the mantle struck two- her husband should have been back at twelve. Glancing out at the darkened world outside the window, she slackened her tense posture as she realised that the silver horses galloping towards the stables could mean only one thing: he husband was alive, and he was back. 

Walking away from the window, towards the ornate staircase, she made her way downstairs, loyally awaiting her Lucius to return to her. She calmly schooled her beautiful features to express welcome, not the terror and fear she was feeling. It would not do to have Lucius think of her as weak.

Lucius limped in tiredly, then sank to the floor, wondering where the _fu_- where the_ blazes_ the house elves were. He needed…_assistance_, to say the least. He was certain that at least three of his bones had been broken; and his own blood had soaked his regal robes, and his soft, luscious, blonde hair was now a dark red from the congealed blood that had amassed there. It had not been a good raid, _at all._

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Narcissa very nearly screamed when she saw the physical state of Lucius when he dragged himself in. She wanted to rush to him, but she wasn't sure what he would think of her actions. She wanted to smooth out his sweaty, bloody hair, but she was afraid. Trembling, she forced herself to calm down instead, then silently made her way toward him, mentally addressing what was wrong and what needed fixing.

Lucius called weakly out for an elf, and one appeared immediately, ready with warm, wet cloth to clean his wounds. As it edged forward towards him, Narcissa walked from her place to make herself known to Lucius, and he started, obviously surprised to see her. "_Evening, dearest_" even through the pain his eyes were reflecting, Narcissa still saw the flash of content as he looked at her from his place on the floor. She smiled, albeit shakily, and corrected him._"Morning, actually." _

Lucius chuckled weakly, and then airily waved a hand, dismissing her statement. In a sudden moment Narcissa felt was her domestic duty, she desisively took the cloth from the silent elf, and then stooped down to sit next to Lucius on the cold marble floor, determined to aid him herself. They worked soundlessly, Narcissa gently and efficiently cleaning the wounds acquired and then healing them, Lucius playing the part of a good little boy and staying completely still, so his makeshift nurse could work with ease.

Lucius admired her as she worked…he was glad she was with him. Any other woman would have screamed, cried, but not his Narcissa. Not his flower. She was so strong, so beautiful…he realised what the fiery emotion coursing through him was: pride. He was proud of his wife, of her strength, and whether she knew it or not, he was fast becoming dangerously and obsessively enamoured with her. When Narcissa had finished, she looked up, and, still finding nothing to say, apparated them to the sofa in their personal living room.

For the first time since his arrival, Lucius felt something akin to embarrassment. Narcissa probably thought him a weak fool for allowing her to see him at his weakest- a Death Eater was supposed to be perfect, immune to trivial cuts and bruises. The red of his blood only served to remind him that he was only human, and he didn't like it at all. Using all the courage he could summon, He hoarsely murmured to her_. "I suppose you think I'm a disgrace to our name, don't you?"_ To him, the question needed no explanation; it was obvious that he was referring to his frail physical state.

He was more then a little surprised when Narcissa smiled tenderly, eyes shining with unshed emotion. _"Not one bit, pet." _Her voice wavered and quietened, but soon returned to its original soft tone. _"I think, Lucius, that you would be a fool if you believed you were invincible" _she looked at him with a critical eye, her moment of tenderness gone as quickly as it came. _"Besides, now you know better not to under-estimate the enemy. The greatest warriors learn from their mistakes."_

Lucius chuckled at his wife's wise words, and soon fell into sweet oblivion, his head lying on his Narcissa's lap in an uncharacteristically vulnerable position. Only when she was sure her husband was well and truly asleep, did Narcissa Malfoy finally allow the hot, scorching tears that had been steadily building to finally make their descent down her troubled face._

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_A/N: REVIEW...PLEASE! GO ON, MAKE MY DAY!


	9. Chapter 9

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"_I'm afraid Lucius isn't available right now. Yes, I'm sure he would love to catch up with you later...yes, I'll be sure to let him know__. I believe he is in a meeting of some sort right now…of course I will, Mr. Knott"_ Narcissa wearily removed her head from the fireplace and sighed…this was getting ridiculous. Lucius was gone _again_, for the 14th night in a row…and in those two weeks she had seen neither hide nor hair from her husband.

She had kept herself busy by keeping company with Draco, and sorting through her husband's ministry workload for him, but still the horrible feeling within her wouldn't go. She _missed_ Lucius. His presence had become a sort of security blanket for her, and a few years ago, she would have severely reprimanded herself for becoming attached to the man…now, however, she couldn't even remember what life was like before him.

The death eater meetings were becoming more frequent now and the strain was definitely showing on Lucius…he wouldn't even come home anymore, and if he did, it was only to collect or drop off some artefacts for his lord. Everytime she saw her husband something had been added or taken away from his once- flawless physique…the last time she had seen him, she had noticed a long, jagged white line of dead flesh streaked across his stomach- a stab wound. She had wondered angrily who had given it to him.

Narcissa had never really given it thought where her loyalty stood, but she was clear on one thing: if her husband wanted her to follow his lord, she would gladly do so, and similarly, if he changed his mind and rebelled against him, she would also rebel. Her loyalty was to her name and family only.

Narcissa smiled as her young son came bounding into the room, and even now, at a tender young age, he looked like a carbon copy of his father, long, blonde hair cascading down, alabaster skin glowing with health, and firm, (albeit small) muscles decorating his arms and legs. _**"yes,"**_ Narcissa thought warmly, her son would be _exactly_ like his father.

"_Mother, look, I drew a picture"_ her son's voice was commanding, authoritive. Narcissa looked down, and suppressed the urge to burst out laughing- the picture was absolutely grotesque, a big, brown splodge on the page, and she hadn't the foggiest what it was.

"_It's very… colourful, dearest. What…exactly is it?"_ it looked a bit like vomit, come to think of it. Draco looked up at his mother, and, exasperated, he replied _"It's"..._he looked down at the picture, and frowned. _"I'm not sure."_ Narcissa actually _did_ burst out laughing this time and affectionately kissed her child's forehead. "_Well, whatever it is, sweetheart, you've drawn it very nicely."_

Narcissa smiled warmly as Draco happily skipped out of the room, but frowned as he turned in the doorway. _"Mother…when will father be back?"_ at the words, her heart froze.

She had been trying to keep her baby as occupied as she could, so he wouldn't notice the absence of his beloved father, but apparently, her son was smarter then that. Draco carried on, unaware of his mothers inner turmoil. _"I'm not sad, you see, but I really do rather miss him. And Theodore told me that __**his**__ father isn't at home anymore, either. Where have they gone, mother?"_ Narcissa smiled bravely, and Draco cocked his small head to the side, trying to understand why his mother's pretty blue eyes were suddenly very, _very_ over-bright. _"Soon, dearest. Father will be back soon." _As her son went away once more, Narcissa silently prayed that her husband _would_ come back quickly. It was pretty obvious that the inhabitants Malfoy manor needed their patriarch back.

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PLEASE REVIEW: D EVEN A 'WELL DONE' IS APPRECIATED!


	10. Chapter 10

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Lucius looked boredly at the scantily clad woman with empty, deadpan eyes as she danced around in slow, exotic, sensual moves. 

It was early morning, maybe four, and he was in the middle of a meeting with an important player in the upcoming war. This would never have been his first choice of a meeting place, but his...client had a considerable amount of money that he was more then willing to donate to the Dark lord, and had chosen the venue.

They had been here for more then an hour, but still, Lucius couldn't have looked more out of place anywhere. His back was perfectly parallel to his thighs, sitting so rigidly that he looked like a stone statue, perfect and unmoving.

He felt no attraction to the ugly, plastic women who were currently leering down at him, and only his Malfoy _must-not-touch-the-unworthy_ attitude was stopping him from standing up and breaking their necks.

A few years ago, he may have enjoyed this… he would have allowed the dancers to arouse and satisfy him, but now…_now_, he couldn't even bring himself to _fathom_ anyone else in his bed…even physically, his body refused to react to the heat of the club, the naked bodies twisting and turning around him, he felt nothing, nothing at all…he…he just wanted Narcissa. He wanted her smooth, pale skin, wanted her long, thick, silky hair, wanted her sharp, glowing eyes…he wanted her, and only her.

A young, heavily made-up woman who wore only a pathetic, PVC excuse of a skirt danced down to his level, flashing her assets for him to (presumably) admire. He sneered cruelly at her, then motioned regally with his hand. _Go away_. Pouting, the woman danced off, wrapping herself around a pole.

Looking straight at Lucius, she began to dance in what could only be described as a twisting, writhing motion, and he was so utterly _bemused_, so _unimpressed_, that he momentarily forgot who he was and who he was with and burst into a fit of uncontrollable, malicious laughter.

Did that little girl actually think that he would be aroused by her display of fake orange skin and peroxide hair? He mentally snorted. He tried to imagine what Narcissa would say to the dancer, had she been present.

He tried to think of all the witty things his wife would say, and with each thought came a feeling that felt like a ferocious blow to his chest…being _here_, in this substandard environment only reminded him that his beautiful wife was at home…waiting for him. Guilt stabbed through him like a knife, and tears welled suddenly and unexpectedly in his eyes. _What on earth? _Why was he_ crying?_

Expertly and quickly schooling his features into a collected expression, he stood abruptly, hurriedly sealing his deal with the man as he did so. He wanted to get as far away from here as possible…it was doing odd things to his mind.

Making his way out into the dark, grimy street, Lucius breathed a sigh of relief and apparated back to the manor where the death-eaters were stationed. When he had joined the Dark Lord, he had quickly gained favour with him, and had thus gained the advantage of coming and going whenever he pleased, amongst other little privileges.

He reverently relayed the success of his deal to his Lord, and was rewarded by a break from his…_illicit_ activities. For the next few months, his Lord would allow him to go back to his home and work, so as not to raise suspicion from the Ministry Of Magic. For the next few months, he was with his wife and son again.

With a spring in his step, and a gleam in his eye, Lucius Malfoy apparated to Malfoy Manor, tired and drained, but happy. He was home again.

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A/N: PLEASE REVIEW...EVEN ONE WORD IS APPRECIATED : ) 


	11. Chapter 11

a/n: Sorry about the delay. Here's this EXTRA long chapter to make it up to you!

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Draco, young as he was, was by no means stupid. He may not have known exactly _where_ his father was routinely going, or _why_, but he _did_ know the amount of pain it caused his mother. Narcissa Malfoy was the strongest woman Draco knew, and he had, on multiple occasions, seen her do things that even his father couldn't stomach; she really was every bit the ice queen people called her.

And so it puzzled his young mind as to why his beautiful mother would suddenly burst into tears when she thought no-one was around, or why he caught her staring for so long at the family portrait in the gallery, or why, when it was the dead of night he would be awoken by her silently coming into his room and laying her head on his bed and kneeling on the floor, choosing to fall asleep in discomfort with her son then sleeping in luxury alone.

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Draco stood, in all his tiny glory outside the imposing doors of his fathers study. He never came here if he could help it. It scared him. Lifting a little hand, he thumped as hard as he could on the huge, oaken doors, scowling when only a quiet muffled noise was heard. Damn his small hands! He stood up straight, puffing his chest out like a robin as he had been taught to, and waited dutifully as heavy, echoing footsteps thudded towards him. A square of light shone in the dark corridor as Lucius opened the door looking ahead, and Draco gently reached out and tugged on the robes of his father to alert him of his presence.

Draco watched as Lucius looked down, expression indifferent, then morphing quickly into pleasant curiosity. He was hauled into the Death Eaters arms, and he lay his head on his fathers shoulder, gently playing with the locks of platinum hair that came his way as Lucius sat down on the leather sofa that was seldom used. After all, he never used his study.

Draco, nervous now, wriggled out of his dads arms, and stood before him, expression serous and solemn. If he didn't say it now, he never would.

"_Father. I came here…to see you. I need to ask you something and maybe…maybe give you some advice"_ the child's voice was innocent and rushed, and despite himself, Lucius leant forward to affectionately ruffle his sons baby-soft hair. _"Advice, son? And on what do you think must I be advised upon? And if you have a question, then by all means, ask away."_ Draco looked into his fathers eyes, and when he spoke again, he spoke quietly.

"_You know a Malfoy… well, let me start off with my first question. Does mother belong to you?"_ To say Lucius looked baffled would be an understatement. Leaning forward, he paid full attention to his son as he answered. _"well…I wouldn't say she belongs to me. but I'd definitely say that she's mine. Does that answer your question?"_ Draco nodded enthusiastically, then, rather breathlessly, asked his next question.

"_Well, you know you always say that Malfoy's always take care of __what's theirs, then don't you think that you should take care of"_… Here, Draco faltered, but thinking of his beloved mother, he resolutely ploughed on. _"well, don't you think you should take care of mother then?"_ Silence greeted this question, and Draco looked down at his shoes, afraid he were to get in trouble. He knew his father didn't liked to be criticized, no less by his own son. Instead, he felt a smooth hand under his chin gently lift his head up, and he looked up at his father. Lucius, in a quiet voice full of…was it pain? Or was it anger? Asked Draco "_what makes you think that I don't take care of her?"_

Draco answered, his voice a melodic babble _"well, its just that, you leave her for ages and ages, and you leave me too, and I miss you but I don't mind too much since I'm a man, and I'm supposed to be strong, but whenever I see mother, she always looks so sad without you, and I hear her crying in her bedroom when she thinks I'm sleeping, and then it makes me sad, because I know she loves you, and she wants to take care of you"… _

Draco's voice faltered again as he felt his father jerk suddenly, but he carried on, determined to say what he had to say. _"But when you leave her it makes me wonder whether you want to care for her too…or even if you love her."_ Draco cocked his head to the side, patiently waiting for his fathers reply.

Suddenly, he was gathered up into his father's arms, and he could only gasp for air as Lucius hugged him, hard. Awkwardly, Draco patted his dad on the back, unsure of what else to do, and breathed a sigh of relief as, just as suddenly as he was grabbed, was released. Draco looked up, slightly confused as to why the mans eyes were so shiny. Finally Lucius spoke. _"you're a fine Malfoy, boy. Don't you forget that. And if you ever, ever have anything like this to tell me again, you make sure you tell me. Lets go find mother and…I'll treat you both to a day out."_ Shocked at his unexpected treat, Draco gave his father a dazzling smile, and leaned over to pat his knee. _"Thank you father."_ Lucius chuckled, and weakly got to his feet, preparing to find his Narcissa. _"Diamonds for your mother, and more toys for you, eh m'boy?"_ Following his happily jumping son out of the room, Lucius's face collapsed into one of despair. To have his son, his _6 year old son_ point out these heartbreaking observations…it killed him. He would have to make it up to his poor, beautiful wife. _How could he have hurt her like this? _

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a/n: _reviews are welcome. wanted, in fact. :-) 


	12. Chapter 12

Narcissa owned exactly 3 jewellery boxes. Contrary to popular belief, she didn't have rooms and room stacked with precious jewels and the like, but the pieces she _did_ own were one-of-a-kinds, and _extremely_ rare. She took extreme pride in the fact that the delicate pieces of glitter that Lucius and her wonderful son would regularly bestow upon her were worth more then most peoples lives.

It was, therefore, natural for her to smile with gratitude and approval as her spouse gently placed an antique, diamond encrusted butterfly comb in her long, flowing hair, looking at her in lustful appreciation as he did so. They were currently in a private showroom in the heart of Paris, browsing through the wonders that the owner had to offer, whilst Draco openly sneered in distain at the overly- helpful manager- he seemed to be trying to flog the family the entirety of his collection.

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Draco looked around, bored. His mother and father had taken him to the most expensive toy-maker in London only a few hours prior, and, thinking back to the mountain of amusing objects he was now in possession of made him all the more restless to get home and play with the damned things.

Like any other child, his boredom and curiosity came over him from standing in one place too long and he quietly pattered over to the counter, where the glittering jewels entranced his naive and easily-excitable mind. _They were so pretty!_

Looking up at his parents, who were examining the comb he had picked out for his mother (his father had specifically asked that Draco choose something), he deemed it safe to closer inspect the pieces of sparkling jewellery beneath him.

Reaching out a small, somewhat chubby hand, he placed it clumsily and roughly over the glass, then hastily drew back with a cry of terror as a series of loud, ear-splitting shrieks assaulted his young ears. Staring wildly around, desperately trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and control the tears that had gathered, unbidden, in his eyes, he could only stand and hold his ground as the owner angrily lashed out verbally at him. A few moments into the ranting, however, was more then young Draco could take, and his resolve to remain dignified crumbled.

Metaphorical tail between his legs, Draco turned, his childish instincts coming into play with him needing the sanctuary of his mother, and ran straight into the woman's arms, allowing small sobs to exit his throat and the tears to finally trek down his face as she gently swung him up, cradling him to her chest. _Why had that man screamed at him? What had he done wrong? Who was that stupid oaf to rebuke him? _

Lucius glared coldly at the man for ruining his sons day. _How dare he berate a Malfoy?_ Standing at his full, impressive height, Lucius angrily hissed at the man, and watched with satisfaction as the portly manager shrank back into the shadows. Turning to look at his son, he narrowed his eyes. _What exactly __**had**__ Draco been doing anyway?_ Disregarding the matter, he smirked and tenderly plucked the comb from his Narcissa's hair, who was currently murmuring soothing words of comfort to their trembling son, and held it up to the light, examining it. Certainly it would have cost him a pretty penny if he were to buy it. _"I think, Sir, that I'll just take this off your hands to serve as a reminder to you of your lowly place. Speak to my son without deference again, and I'll make sure your entire_ _business… ah…suffers as a consequence. You'd do well to remember it." _

Gently relieving Narcissa of Draco's weight, Lucius strode arm-in-arm with his wife leisurely out the building, far less then happy. Certainly, Draco's behaviour couldn't be helped, he was only a child, but Lucius would need to make sure that the blond knew how to stand his ground when he was a little older. After all, he was a Malfoy. And whilst Draco had put up a front Lucius was proud of, it wasn't good enough. Turning towards his wife, he gently murmured in her ear, so the now slumbering Draco on his chest wouldn't be disturbed. _" I'll be increasing his training ten-fold tomorrow." _

_A/N: reviews are very much wanted :-) they make my world go around XD_


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: sorry for the delay! It's getting harder and harder to write these two :S

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"_I finally managed to beat Johnson today, father. You see, he was paying attention to what the chess pieces were __**saying**__, not what they were __**doing**__, so I grabbed the…opper…onerpunity, and Tutor Smith said that I had done a very…" _yawn "_…good job. Isn't that great, father?" _

Draco's quiet, tired voice babbled out from under the duvet, and Lucius chuckled lightly. _"It's pronounced __**opportunity**__, Draco. And you'd do well to never let one pass you by."_ Lucius looked down at his son, only to see that the boys eyes had closed and he was now snuggled into Lucius's side, breathing deeply.

Lucius looked at his sleeping son with a remarkably serious face, save for a warm crinkle in his eye. The boy was curled in his and Narcissa's bed, obviously worn out from his days activities of vigorous mental and physical training. Lucius was proud of the progress his son had made. The young child had a sharp mind, no doubt about it, and he couldn't help but feel rather like an over-proud, slightly doting father. Was it his fault for having such a smart son, though?

The boy, although still tiny compared to Lucius's own broad, built frame, was growing wonderfully. It wasn't difficult to tell that the boy would grow to be a replica of his father. Smiling softly, he remembered back to when his son had just been born, and Narcissa had spent, quite literally, the whole night sniffling in Lucius's arms- she had been furious and just a little resentful that she had carried her baby in her for all that time, and still he looked nothing like her.

Soft features, still pure in that child-like manner, would soon become chiselled and angular, Lucius knew. The small frame of his son, already boasting well-formed muscles and good proportions due to the purity of his blood, would soon become even more distinct and perfect. Lucius couldn't help but preen- his father would have been proud, he knew. The boy was everything a Malfoy should be, in mind, heart and looks.

Watching the pale but healthy face scrunch slightly, almost as though Draco knew he was being watched, Lucius turned and made his way quietly out of the room, only stopping to make sure that an elf would be there if his son were to wake. Deatheater he may be, but cruel to his own kin he was most certainly not.

Walking through to their private living room, he was both puzzled and worried to find that Narcissa was not here yet. He had sent his wife off to a stupid spa of some sort, to sooth her frazzled nerves after his long spell with the dark lord, and she was supposed to have been due back more then an hour ago. With a stab of guilt, he realised that this is what she must have felt like all those times when he had come back late. He felt...what did he feel? paranoia, worry, guilt, and...jealousy? What was wrong with him?

Feeling incredibly hot and claustrophobic all of a sudden, he shrugged off his cardigan, and walked briskly over to his owl who was currently asleep, and proceeded to write a letter demanding Narcissa's whereabouts to her. Watching the bird soar gracefully off into the night, Lucius could not stop the bubble of anxiety in his heart. _Where was his wife?_

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 A/N: review, pretty please?


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: hello there everyone! I'm rather sad to say this, but I really no longer have the energy to carry on with this story, so I'll be wrapping it to a close in a few more chapters. Right, now onto the good bit! Enjoy!

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"_I'm very sorry, dear cousin, for intercepting you like this. I have, however, just caught hold of some rather terrible news."_ Narcissa had enjoyed herself immensely at the spa, and was now on her way back when a distant cousin, a Lestrange, had apparated out of nowhere, grabbed her, and apparated away again. She was now standing gracefully, all surprise gone, as she took in her surroundings. She was at her grandfathers ancestral home, the most noble and (quite literal) house of Black.

She looked up enquiringly at the man, someone she vaguely recognised and disliked but someone who she couldn't bother herself to remember. The man, a large, aristocratic monster, bent over awkwardly to accommodate him to her height and carried on uncomfortably. _"Bellatrix, cousin, is the topic of my distress. She has been carted off to Azkaban, along with my esteemed fathers brothers son, Rudolphus. Orders from the dark lord says that the family of the incarcerated must be told first. I assumed he meant you, my dear."_

Narcissa turned away from the man tried her level best not to tremble. It would only make her look weaker, and as it was, she was in a pretty bad condition already. Why was it so cold in here, all of a sudden? The large, burly man hunched over her gently began to pet her hair, something she hated if someone other then Lucius or Draco did it, but right now couldn't bring herself to object. She tried not to cry, tried so very hard not to do anything, but the burning in her chest wouldn't go away. She refused to show her turmoil; she was a Malfoy. She would never show any weakness even if she were the one being led away herself, to Azkaban. The thought, however of _her sister_…her only sister, imprisoned away in that hell-hole, with no food nor drink, only magic to keep her alive and only her memories and thoughts for company wouldn't let her keep her normal indifferent façade.

Walking away from the waiting Deatheater, Narcissa swallowed heavily and quickly prepared a line or two for the man. Even as she was dished out the bad news, her mind had gone into overdrive; she heard the implications behind the other's words: that Lord Voldemort wanted to hear what she thought about this. What she thought of the Dark Lords _most esteemed follower_ thrown to the harshness of Azkaban. What she thought of _her sister _being stupid enough to dig her own grave.

Narcissa looked up coldly at the Brown-haired, mask wearing individual. _"My lord has lost a great pawn for his war. There are, however, many more that are willing to fill the void my sister had stupidly left. It was her own ineptitude that caused her to fall. Please, sir, kindly offer my condolences to the Dark Lord and allow him to know that Lucius will be arriving very shortly to see whether he can be of any use."_

Oddly detached, Narcissa turned and walked with less then her usual composure towards the door. As though remembering something, she half turned in the doorway, and with something like a smirk on her face, spoke with indifference to the man. " _Touch me without my permission again, and I'll have Lucius castrate you."_ this threat aside, the grey-eyed witch turned and apparated, straight into the room Lucius was angrily waiting in.

Lucius hissed with fury enough to make the most level-headed man cringe as he heard the familiar 'pop' of apparition; he had been frantically scanning the night sky for his bird, when he realised his wife was home. He fluidly swung up from the chair he had been sitting in, and stood to full height, some considerable feat, him being way over 6 foot, and glared down with full intention of giving his wife a piece of his ( very enraged) mind when abruptly stopped and saw the miserable, grief-stricken look on her face.

Being able to do nothing more then let out a soft breath of air as his wife threw herself at him, Lucius brought his arms up tightly around her, hugging her possessively, protectively, engulfing her with his presence. He realised with some alarm that she was sobbing into his blood-red shirt, staining the material with darker, maroon drops. He immediately began to murmur soothing words into her ear, bringing both down to the floor where he embraced his wife properly, pulling her into his lap where he patiently waited with an iron-like dread in his stomach for her to tell him of the bad news. He had _never_ seen Narcissa cry like this.

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A/N: please review, I'd definitely appreciate some feedback!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I am so very very sorry for not updating this story- I had the evilest exams of my life, and I honestly had to leave all my hobbies in order to prepare for them. I deeply apologize. I would also like to dedicate this story to Boxter- who's been with this story since it began. Thank you so very much, Boxter, you've no idea how much I appreciated all your reviews. Enjoy the story!

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Lucius entered his home tired, but happy. He had been gone for three days, business in France, and had missed his wife and child terribly. He would have taken them both, but circumstances had prevented it. Dropping his outer cloak into the arms of an elf, he bounded up the stairs two at a time, intent on seeing his family. Reaching his bedroom, he walked through the open door, the sight meeting his eyes causing a rush of warmth and homecoming to flood though him.

His wife and child were sprawled out on the huge bed, Draco gracelessly, Narcissa gracefully, both asleep in each others arms. Lucius walked quietly in, admiring the overt domesticness of the scene; they two had obviously been having fun before they flopped down to sleep; feathers lay all over the place, there were pirate costumes lying thrown haphazardly on the floor, knives, swords, and various other toy weapons strewn about, and Lucius could distinctly see a smear of chocolate on Narcissa's nose. He laughed softly. "Adorable" he murmured to himself.

Stepping over a discarded pile of empty chocolate wrappers, he sat down on the bed, watching with a gentle smile as his wife began to stir. He watched with mild interest as she sat up and yawned, looking oddly feline as she did so. He smirked, and leaned forward so she could see him. He revelled in her quiet "oh" of surprise, before pulling her body towards him gently so as not to wake Draco. Feeling an indescribable emotion well within him as she buried her head in his chest, Lucius leaned forward to murmur huskily in her ear. "evening, Narcissa." He smirked. "Had a good time then, I take it"? He was rewarded with a muffled 'yes', before Narcissa twisted round so she was seated properly in his lap. "why the pirate costumes and knives?" Lucius asked conversationally. Narcissa leaned back comfortably before answering. "Training. I thought I'd make it fun for him. I was teaching him to fight."

Lucius looked at Narcissa oddly. "why? I thought you weren't happy about training him so early on in his life"? He was rewarded with a lazy shrug. "you wanted it." Lucius still looked at his wife with that odd expression, not really believing that Narcissa would give in and actually _help_ Lucius with training Draco- especially since she wasn't all that keen on the idea to begin with. Correctly reading her husbands silence as incredulity, Narcissa rolled her eyes and daintily stood, walking towards the door, and cleaning the messy room with a wave of Lucius's wand that was lying on the bed beside her. Turning to face her spouse, Narcissa looked at him with a severe expression. "You and I are a team, Lucius. I would never go against you."

It was the sheer notion of the fact that Narcissa _hadn't_ gone against him- he didn't think she had ever done. Sure, if she didn't get her way she would do all she could to get what she wanted, but she had never actually _gone against him._ Women from the Black family were famed for turning on the closest of their friends when it suited them; the thought that his wife, his Narcissa had always remained loyal to him left a glow of happiness within his chest.

Lucius sat staring at his wife's half-turned figure infront of him, a twirling myriad of emotions and thoughts running through him. "I love you" he whispered to her, and smiling, humoured, when she smirked and murmured the sentiment right back. As Narcissa walked off towards the bathroom, towel in hand, he looked towards his son fondly, face impassive but eyes expressing his happiness. Broken out of his reverie by his wife's voice, he looked up. "put Draco in his own bed, wont you? I only want you in it when I get back." Smirking, Lucius nodded and leaned back, watching Narcissa's lithe figure as she disappeared into the bath. Allowing himself a small smile, he remembered back to that cold winters day when he had thought the very thing he was thinking now. _Yes, _Lucius Malfoy thought comfortably, _Narcissa was indeed perfect; perfect friend, perfect mother, and the perfect wife.

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A/N: well, that was the last chapter, please review! I shall love and cherish them forever. #nods.


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